


next he'll start about the book he's writing

by JeanSouth



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future Fish, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 08:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5283599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanSouth/pseuds/JeanSouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rei needs help. A lot of help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	next he'll start about the book he's writing

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to write SouHaru for a prompt but then I wrote it and realized I'd written SouRei? So here's a free extra fic for the masses? Idk.

Rei strongly regretted dating apps, dating, technological advances that led to the invention of the smartphone, and the import of Italian cuisine that facilitated the creation and continued existence of the restaurant he currently, desperately no longer wanted to be in.

“A fine vintage,” his date said, swirling the tiny bit of red wine around a mirror-shine polished glass, occasionally sniffing. He took a sip, swished it around his mouth, and spat it out. “Strong hints of red wood and winter berries.”

Had he had the option, Rei would have pitched in with a denial, or some agreement, or even a fascinating anecdote about the creation of wine and the process of grape to drink. He didn’t, however, have the option. He hds a dry mouth, a rumbling stomach desperate for an appetiser, and a slowly but firmly building headache.

The headache wheedled in the back of his mind, telling him how gross it was to spit a mouthful of wine back into a glass and drink it later. It refused to have its entirely valid, vaguely disgusting arguments ignored.

“So, it’s good?” he asked, and prayed the server would pitch in, offering to bring the bottle and let it breathe. His imploring eyes must have worked, because the server did, and with a sigh his overtly pretentious date for the evening accepted with a condescending handwave.

As soon as the server left (with the appropriate speed of someone fleeing), his attention turned back to Rei. “So, you said you do science?”

Science - now there was a topic he could latch on to, maybe uncover some unexpected good points or lead into a rapt discussion. He loved his job, after all; Nagisa never stopped giving him grief about working too much overtime or bringing his work home with him in reports that needed writing, but this was what he wanted to do with his life. He could help people, and help them a lot.

“Yeah!” he started, adjusting his glasses so he could make sure he made an appropriate amount of eye-contact on purpose, so he’s sending out all the right signals just in case. “I graduated last year, and this company took me on a couple months ago-”

“I took an intro to science class,” his date interrupted. “In college. I could have taken it, but it just didn’t have money in it, you know? Tech is pretty much where all the big business and growth is at.”

He paused as the waiter returned, and politely left the wine to air whilst taking their orders after much uhm-ing and ahh-ing. With any luck, they’d drop that topic and move on-

“Maybe if you’d taken computer science you’d be getting somewhere.”

Well, there went that hope. Out the window, much like Rei would like to be. He couldn’t be rude, though, could he? In the background to his thoughts, his date chattered on about statistics and the precedent of tech businesses booming, and how he could make a much better dating app if only he wanted. Rei could, if he tried very hard, probably be rude. But he’d feel bad. But he didn’t want to stay.

A pause lulled the conversation, and he smiled and nodded by rote. Clearly it was an acceptable answer as the chatter started up, intermittently broken by words like V8 engine and imported from France. Nagisa would probably just walk out, but then, he wasn’t much for guilt or shame to start with. Maybe he could share some of that shameless wisdom later.

“Sorry,” he interrupted. A startled look flew his way, caught between absolute confusion at being interrupted and indignation. “I’ll be right back, I just need to find the restroom.”

Slipping his phone into his pocket, he subtly dialled Nagisa’s number and held it to his ear as he slipped through the polished wood doors to the men’s room. After a half-dozen rings, it clicked over to voicemail, letting down the hope that had sprung up in Rei’s gut in lieu of the food he so desperately desired. What was he going to do?

The electric hand-dryer springing to life at the entry of another person shocked him back into action. His instinct took over and he reached out and grabbed. His hand wrapped around the stranger’s bicep, though around was a rather strong choice of words. The bicep beneath his hand was very firm to start with, rather large, and only hardened further when his sudden actions seemed to make every fairly impressive muscle tense. He let go, again on instinct - his self-preservation was working overtime tonight in compensation for all the times it had let him down in high school.

“Sorry,” he half-bowed, keeping an eye on the door. “I just- I mean- I-”

He stopped for a second, tried to order his thoughts under the skeptical look levelled at him.

“Are you here with someone?” he settled on; easier to ask first than explain first. At the quiet head-shake, he breathed in deep and launched into a spiel. “Well, look. I don’t know if you’re ever been on a bad date. Like, a really bad date. If you were a rat you’d be gnawing at your leg by now. I’m almost gnawing at my leg right now! I can’t- I just can’t make a scene on my own. I’d die. My shame gland would work overtime and burn me from the inside out, and I’d shrivel up and die.”

His face seemed to flare with heat, firm evidence of his shame gland trying to tell him to stop rambling.

“I’ll give you-- well, whatever, name your price -- if you get me out of it. I swear. Just help me. Please.” his best pleading eyes made their appearance, his hands making the decision to clasp together in prayer and beg this stranger for assistance.

A moment of silence passed, then another, interspersed by his pocket vibrating in Nagisa’s too-late inquiring text message.

“Fine,” the stranger grunted out eventually, and disappeared into a stall. Should he pry for more information? No, that’d be rude. Implying he didn’t trust this stranger. And it’d be far less genuine - he couldn’t act for toffee.

Steeling himself, he returned to a meagre portion of pasta, and his wine decanted in an amount far too volumous to be proper.

“Quite the queue,” he said at the inquisitive look, and settled his napkin. How long should he wait? Five minutes? Ten? “How’s the salmon?”

Platitudes were exchanged, the server checked on them, and Rei got anxious. When he was all but ready to text Nagisa again, a hand landed on his shoulder. It was a heavy, warm, dry hand that squeezed just a bit.

“You’re under arrest,” a disembodied voice seemed to say, until he realized the voice and the hand were attached to the same entity. A police badge appeared in front of him as he took it in his hands. It seemed real enough - it had a number and everything. A cold wash of anxiety poured over him. It was real.

“But-” he stood, enough to splutter into the cop’s field of view at least, ignoring the horrified look shot at him across the table when he was turned back around and cuffed. Those definitely felt real when he tested them and looked on while his coat and bag were collected.

“Walk,” the hand nudged at his shoulder and led him through a crowd of diners whispering amongst themselves. At least they’d have a story to tell their friends come monday morning at work. The maitre d’ stood by in silence, probably thinking up a counter-plan to any news outlets picking up the story. A criminal! In his restaurant!

Once outside, his coat was draped over his shoulders.

“Forgot the keys in the car,” was his only explanation as he was led to a fairly non-descript vehicle with comfortable-looking seats. It had central locking, at least, and a cold bonnet when he leaned on it until he got free. The cuffs were definitely real.

“Have I committed a crime?” he questioned, rubbing at his wrists to get the odd feeling out of them; the slight chill bite of metal. “Propositioning you for money in bathrooms.”

“I don’t think escaping a bad date is considered a felony,” the stranger’s lips quirked, if only very slightly, and he stuck his hand out. “Sousuke Yamazaki.”

The hand was as nice and warm when he shook it as it had been on his shoulder.

“Rei,” he offered in return. “How much do I owe you?”

He hesitated.

“Would it be covered if I took you to dinner? I mean, I’m still starving…” he rubbed his hand along his hairline awkwardly, his coat almost slipping off where he hadn’t put it on properly yet. A nod and the car unlocking answered him enough.

“So, what do you do?” Sousuke asked, sliding the key into the ignition.

“Science, actually,” Rei smiled, and prepared to launch into his spiel again.


End file.
